


a stitch in time

by glacecherie



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Mob, F/F, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 18:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20296168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glacecherie/pseuds/glacecherie
Summary: the lesbian mob au you never knew you wanted (or, drabbles from a bigger thing i'm still fleshing out.)1. Zach feels protective of Willy, but somehow it comes out as possesiveness.





	a stitch in time

**Author's Note:**

> This is a brand new mob au I'm gonna flesh out, so why not start bang in the middle and work from there? 
> 
> Slight mention of someone's knuckles being patched and stitched up, nothing graphic. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"Are they split or just bruised?" Willy asks, pushing up the sleeve of her robe, nudging aside the ice Zach has on her knuckles. The material is too slippery to stay bunched up, Zach notes tiredly. It'll end up a mess.

"Split, I think. I don't know."

Willy tuts, grabbing the first aid kit from under the couch. Zach rolls her eyes. They're successful enough for fresh flowers and a first aid kit in every room. Her mother would be very proud. Then again, her mother still holds onto the very obvious lie that Zach works at a law firm, and that Zach will marry a nice jewish boy.

"Unclench your hand." Willy says, practiced, and pours on the rubbing alcohol before Zach can realise. It burns like it always does, hot then bitterly cold, in a way that she never gets used to. Same for the scrubbing to get the dried blood off. Willy should probably wear gloves, but whatever.

"Wait here."

"Wasn't planning on going anywhere." Zach grumbles. The cat raises its head when the chemical smell reaches it, disgruntled. "Don't look at me that way. You'd eat us all if you had the chance."

Willy reappears with her glasses on and a bowl of warm water under her arm. There's blood on her silken cuff, smeared on her fingertips, jammed under her nails.

"Stop being mean to him, he's been nothing but good today. Rinse. And wrap your fucking knuckles next time."

"I hardly had the time!" Zach says, and she can _hear_ how whiny she sounds.

Willy raises one perfect eyebrow and dries off her hand when she's satisfied Zach has done a good enough job.

"Stop complaining just because you're uncomfortable being taken care of." She says easily, and pushes the the edges of the cut together. Even though Zach knows it's coming, even though it's happened too many times before, she can't watch the needle sewing her up. "How did this even happen, all you needed to do was collect someone from -"

"Don't ask." Zach sighs. "You won't like the answer this time."

Willy raises _both_ her perfect eyebrows this time. She knows better than to ask, because her wife is stubborn and will just double down if pressed.

Willy squints. The sluggish bleeding where the parted skin disappears between Zach's fore and index fingers is deeper than she thought, and she hasn't any numbing cream. The blood soaks further into her sleeve.

"Tell me about what you remember of our wedding." She says, indulgent, needing to distract.

Zach hisses when Willy puts a stitch through the worst part, but ducks her head to smile all the same.

"You make it sound like a huge thing."

"Wasn't it?"

"We had to rush and do it in a courthouse."

"Mazel tov, you no longer have to testify against each other in court if you're ever arrested."

"You complained that the yarmulke weren't _glamorous_ enough."

"It didn't go with my dress. It needed some beadwork or something."

_Three to go_.

"All 800 of your tiny blonde kid relatives were sad they couldn't take part."

"They just really love weddings!"

_Two_.

"The chuppah was one of your million cashmere scarves held up by two disgruntled employees."

_One_.

Willy pauses to side-eye her.

"Yeah, because you said a silk robe was inappropriate and _technically lingerie._"

"It was lingerie! I bought it you with a set of lingerie! I have eaten you out in it! Why did you even have it in your car?!"

Willy uses her distraction to tie off the final stitch, a nasty thing that will leave a raised scar. She's not even ashamed to find it hot at this point.

"Done." She says, removing her glasses, finally able to sweep her hair out of her face where it had been tickling her cheek.

"Don't - oh for fuck's sake." Zach sighs, but it's fond. "How many times, rinse your hands first. You've got blood on your face."

"How are you more squeamish than me here?"

"I'm not!"

"Oh _sure_, you're just -"

Zach cuts her off to press their mouths together, good hand curled along her nape, thumb pressing into the hinge of her jaw to kiss her deeper. She's gorgeous and hers, and maybe Zach has some weird pavlovian response to Willy being unphased and competent. _Whatever_.

She sinks her teeth into Willy's lip and tugs until she melts, and Zach scoops her into her lap, wincing when she forgets her bad hand. Willy slaps her arm until she lets go and straddles her of her own accord. There's a clink. The smell of alcohol gets stronger, like the bottle has tipped over. The cat chunters under its breath and stalks off. Willy pulls off her robe and carelessly throws it somewhere behind her.

It's ruined, probably, Zach thinks. She'll buy her a new one, something pastel with soft lace edging. She's trying to pull some concern from somewhere and failing. She knew that Willy only had on one of her vests and her sleep sweatpants beneath it, but the sight of her soft and desperate still takes her breath.

Zach nips down her jaw until she can suck her pulse point, pulling away just enough that she can see Willy's nipples perk up and push against the thin cotton. She cups her breasts and runs her thumbs over them, and it's so hot to watch how she instinctively tries to squeeze her thighs together and can't. Zach wants to feel how wet she is just from the torment, to give her two fingers to ride and curl them inside her, thumb pressed to her public bone so she feels the pressure from both sides.

God, _fuck this_, she thinks. She won't be able to fuck her properly like this, not how she wants. Not laid out on the bed and clenching her fingers in the bedding because she thinks she's too good to squirm when Zach bites her way up her thighs. Tracing the outline her teeth have made on Willy's ribs and staring her down when she stubbornly tries not to flinch. Some mean bit of Zach just wants to fuck her up and make her pay in desperate, soft noises for making Zach want her so much.

"Take me to bed?" She asks, and Zach watches her bitten mouth shape around the words. Yeah, she can get behind that.

She heaves her non-patched up hand under Willy's ass and stands, loving the delighted little shudder it inspires. When Zach nips her cheek where it dimples she can taste her own blood, and that _shouldn't_ make her throb, but here she is.

-

Willy is _terrible_ at keeping still. She always has been. Usually it's a disadvantage.

"I'm not moving." Zach says plainly. She has one hand holding Willy's thighs spread and the other with two fingers halfway into her, purposely not enough.

"Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, _fuck you..._" Willy pants. Her hair is stuck to her skin in messy strands, and she's naked save for the Zach's vest, rucked up and transparent at the breast. She goes half crazy with how it feels to have the edge of Zach's teeth against her nipples through the fabric, her tongue.

She looks debauched, and the mean bit of Zach resurfaces and goes _mine_ over and over. _Mine to hold and kiss and work over until you're exhausted from me getting you off over and over. Making you come so much that you can't even shove my hands away, that you can't even do your customary fake protest to mask how easy you are._

Willy sobs, eyes squeezed shut and colour flooding her cheeks as she arches her back, starting to roll her hips, any air of control falling by the wayside.

"Good girl," Zach says, and feels her shake from the inside. "Just like that."

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to @lesbianstanleyecup on tumblr for enabling me and supplying a moodboard of outfits for this particular mob au, hence Willy's 1930s femme fatale why-officer-of-course-I-didn't-kill-my-husband robe.
> 
> Chuppah = canopy jewish folks get married beneath. It isn't actually that uncommon for it to be a piece of fabric held up, but that fabric is usually a special prayer shawl.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think either here/on tumblr @klenovvy :^)


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